Statue Of Limitations
by Red Witch
Summary: Archer and his team are hired to protect a priceless statue which is in more danger from them than criminals. Meanwhile Ray, Pam and Krieger also have to deal with some other statues for another client. Maybe the gang should go into the demolition business?


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has been broken. Again. Just some more madness and a possible 'secret mission' or two that the gang doesn't want anyone to know about. With good reason.**

 **Statue of Limitations **

"Now," Mallory glared at her son, Lana, Cyril and Cheryl standing in her office. "I don't want this mission to go wrong. So I will repeat your instructions **again!** "

"Good. Because I know me and Archer weren't listening the first time," Cheryl spoke up as she casually filed her nails.

"I caught **some** of it," Archer admitted before he took a drink from his perpetually filled glass of scotch. "But I kind of zoned out at the end."

Mallory made a noise of disgust before turning her attention to the picture of a well-dressed older man on screen. "As I said before…This is Hans Frankshteen."

"That's Fronk-En-Stein!" Archer quipped. Everyone looked at him. "No big Young Frankenstein fans?"

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped. "Hans is an old friend of mine."

"Ughhhh…." Archer groaned.

"Not **that** kind of friend!" Mallory snapped. "He was my contact in the German Resistance!"

"Wait there was a _German_ Resistance?" Archer asked.

"Of course there was! Not every German goose-stepped behind Hitler!" Mallory snapped. "True they're weren't that many of them and they were about as organized as the United Nations on a lunch break but yes! They existed! Long story short…"

"Too late," Archer quipped.

"I helped smuggled Hans out of Germany during the war and he became a very wealthy businessman," Mallory went on. "Who called me for a very small, very discreet favor."

"To protect a statue," Lana said.

"Not just any statue," Mallory showed an image of a bare breasted female angel carrying a sword. "This is the Angel of Pride, a very rare statue made by Karl Begas the Younger."

"There was **two** of them?" Cheryl blinked.

"Shut up," Mallory snapped. "This is one of his few surviving early works. Very rare and very expensive."

"It also looks pretty small for a statue," Cyril realized.

"It's only three feet tall," Mallory said. "Originally it was only supposed to be a practice model for a larger one but apparently Begas got carried away. Its size is what helped it survive both World Wars when many of his larger well known works were destroyed. It's priceless."

"So why should we care about this?" Archer asked in a bored tone.

"Because you four are going to watch over the statue tonight and make sure nothing happens to it," Mallory said. "Basically all you have to do is help provide security for the statue until midnight when it will be fully insured."

"And then we can break it?" Cheryl asked.

"No!" Mallory snapped. "The statue will then be able to be sold to a museum at a decent price. Look I don't get all the legalities either. All I know is that Hans won't be able to sell the statue until it's properly insured."

"But why hasn't it been insured up until now?" Lana asked. "Unless…Oh God Mallory it was stolen wasn't it?'

"Rescued!" Mallory barked. "From the Hitler Huns who would have used it as target practice anyway!"

"And I'm guessing you helped _steal it_ ," Lana groaned. "And you waited to insure it when the statute of limitations ran out. I'm also guessing that when Hans **does** sell it, you get a cut. Am I right?"

"And the Amazing Kreskin does it again," Mallory said dryly. "Look before you get on your high horse…"

"Too late," Cyril zinged. "Hey-Ohh!"

"Shut up Cyril," Lana glared at her former boyfriend.

Lana then turned her attention back to Mallory. "And I'm also guessing you don't want the CIA to find out we're doing this, because not only is this mission an unauthorized freelance mission, you don't want them finding out about your extra income. As well as your role in stealing this statue."

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?" Mallory was a bit miffed.

"Well here's a few questions **I don't** know the answer to," Lana said. "Why do we have to provide security? Can't this Hans guy just hire his own security? And more importantly why is **Cheryl** coming on this mission?"

"Yeah I wondered that too," Cheryl blinked. "The last part about me coming. Not the other two things."

"Because," Mallory said patiently. "I owe Hans a favor and this was the only way that I would be guaranteed that I'd get my cut. He's always been a bit of a cheapskate. Secondly I need the Tunt name as a cover."

"A cover for what?" Lana asked.

"Hans is hosting a very small, very intimate cocktail party at his mansion," Mallory said. "With some very select upper crust of society. We're just going to blend in with the crowd and pretend to be party guests."

 **"We?"** Lana asked. "Of course you're coming to micromanage."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Archer rolled his eyes.

"Is Ron coming too?" Cyril asked.

"We really should bring phrasing back," Archer quipped.

"Yes, Ron is coming with me so all of you **behave yourselves**!" Mallory barked. "You four are going to pair up into teams and pretend to be dates. Lana you're stuck with Sterling and Cyril you're with Olivia Glue-Ton John over here!"

"Hooray…" Cyril groaned as Cheryl squealed with glee.

"I know…" Lana said in a deadpanned voice. "But I still have questions about this operation."

"I **know** ," Mallory rolled her eyes.

"For starters what makes you so sure the CIA won't find out about this?" Lana folded her arms.

"They won't," Mallory waved. "I've taken care of that."

"How exactly?" Lana raised an eyebrow.

"Let's just say I made a few anonymous calls so that the CIA will be chasing their tails all weekend," Mallory said. "And leave it at that!"

"But…" Lana began.

"Lana just shut up and suspend your disbelief," Cheryl said. "It makes life so much easier."

"It does, doesn't it?" Archer asked.

"Sometimes I can't believe the insanity that is my life," Cyril groaned.

"I know the feeling," Mallory said with a sigh before she took a drink.

Later that evening at an expensive mansion….

"I just have a feeling that something is going to happen," Lana said to Archer. She was wearing a sexy black evening gown. Archer was wearing a tuxedo. They were in a large elegant foyer. Standing in front of the statue which was on a pedestal behind them.

"It's one of Mother's schemes," Archer shrugged as he drank a cocktail. "Odds are you're right."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Lana asked.

"Because A, this Highball is pretty tight," Archer said as he downed it. "And B…Hang on." He threw away the glass.

A waiter walked by with a tray of cocktails. Archer grabbed one. "Hang on," He told the waiter. He drank the other cocktail and threw away the glass on the floor. Then grabbed another cocktail. "Hang on…"

"Archer," Lana was getting annoyed.

"Hang on…" Archer finished the cocktail and grabbed the last cocktail on the tray. The waiter moved away. "Bring back more of those! I want to say these are Appletinis but they don't taste apple-y. More orange-y but not overpowering. Pretty good actually."

"Archer…" Lana tried again.

"Is there such a thing as an Orange-tini?" Archer asked.

"Can we focus on the mission please?" Lana asked, exasperated.

"What's to focus on? Look how bad could it be?" Archer said. "We're getting twenty grand apiece to just stand around. There's not that many people here. The food and drinks are good…"

SLAP!

"THAT'S FOR NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO ME IN HIGH SCHOOL FENTON CHELSWICK!" Cheryl was heard shouting. "AND FYI, YOU MISSED OUT ON SOME PRIMO CHOKE SEX! HELL I BET CYRIL OVER HERE SATISFIED ME BETTER THAN YOU COULD EVER **DREAM OF**! OH AND HE'S HUNG LIKE A FREAKING ELEPHANT!"

"Hello…" Cyril was heard saying weakly.

"I'm serious!" Cheryl said. "He may be a pussy in everything else but his penis is hung like a freaking python!"

"And with Cheryl around the entertainment is halfway decent," Archer snickered. "Plus who's going to steal a stupid **statue?** It's not like it's a diamond necklace or a rare painting you can just move around easily. I mean you can't smuggle it out under your coat and it's made out of marble so…"

"Actually this statue is made out of clay," Lana said.

 _"Seriously?"_ Archer did a double take. "It looks just like a marble statue."

"Well sometimes sculptors make clay statues to help them figure out how to make larger life sized ones," Lana said. "And it's made out of a kind of clay that looks like marble when it's dried so…"

"So you two idiots better not let **anything** happen to it," Mallory walked up in a black evening dress with her pearls and a black fur stole.

"God! Relax Mother! We won't," Archer groaned.

"You'd **better not** ," Mallory growled. "I've waited over fifty years for this investment to pan out. And I'll be damned if this plan gets derailed in the final hours."

Archer looked around. "Where's Ron?"

"He's tracking down those mini pigs in a blanket like a bloodhound after an escaped criminal," Mallory grumbled.

"Where are those pigs in a blanket?" Archer looked around. "I could go for some of that."

"Wait, where's Ray, Pam and Krieger?" Lana asked. "Shouldn't they be here for this?"

"You don't need Tweedle Dumb, Tweedle Dumber and Tweedle Gay for **this,** " Mallory scoffed. "Besides, they're on another assignment."

"Do I even want to **know** what they're doing?" Lana asked in a tired voice.

Somewhere on the other side of New York City…

" **This** is what we're doing? Let me see if I get this straight…" Ray said as he looked up at a dilapidated building. He was dressed in construction clothes along with Pam and Krieger. "This old building is in the way of some high rise construction project?"

"Yes," Krieger nodded. "The only thing keeping this building from being demolished is that there is a debate on its architectural value."

"What value?" Pam scoffed. "I've seen port-a-johns that were better designed!"

"Those three gargoyle statutes up there," Krieger pointed. "Apparently they were designed by some bigwig architect. But with those gone, this building will have no historical value."

"So let me get this straight," Ray sighed. "We're supposed to destroy a couple of statues so an old building can get destroyed for some fancy high rise?"

"Yup," Krieger nodded.

"And I'm guessing this is a favor for a friend of Ms. Archer's that she wants done under the table," Ray remarked.

"So she can have another excuse to get under the covers with him," Pam snorted. "I don't know what the big fuss is. One good breeze and this dump will fall on its own."

"Since when are we all a demolition crew?" Ray grumbled. "And even as I asked the question…Literally as the words were coming _right out of my mouth_ …"

"You have to admit wrecking stuff has kind of become our forte," Krieger shrugged.

"So all we gotta do is trash three ugly ass statues before anyone sees us!" Pam said. "Easy peasy!"

"I dunno," Ray frowned. "Are there people living in this building?"

"No. The only people who want to save this place are activists with nothing better to do," Krieger told him. "All the tenants moved out years ago. Well they kind of had to when the mold spores mutated."

Pam snorted. "Even the crack heads moved out of this dump. Besides we're getting paid twenty grand a piece if we do this."

"I'm on board now," Ray picked up a sledgehammer. "Let's turn those things into rubble!"

"If you think about, we're actually doing some good here," Krieger said as they picked up their tools and went inside. "Beautifying the city…"

"Said I was on board Krieger," Ray interrupted him.

"Aww…" Krieger pouted. "I had a whole spiel on this."

Back at the party…

"So I don't want to hear your usual spiel on how I always come up with some half assed schemes," Mallory told Lana.

"Which you do," Lana replied.

"Shut up," Mallory said.

"You should have at least brought Ray and the others for this," Lana said.

"Yes, bring a gay cyborg hillbilly, a crazy Kraut clone and **Pam** to a party where the most _elite_ of New York Society is attending!" Mallory sniffed.

"I still feel uneasy," Lana said. "You didn't even let us check the perimeter. At the very least those three would have been extra eyes and…"

"Lana relax," Mallory waved. "This party will be a win-win for us. Not only will I get a cut of the profits from the sale of the statue, I'm planning on making an impression on our host and several of his guests."

"YOU HEARD ME!" Cheryl was heard shouting again. "YOUR DAUGHTER IS A BIG FAT WHORE MRS. WINTERBOTTOM! AND EVERYBODY KNOWS IT!"

"I think Cheryl is making quite an impression of her own," Archer snickered.

"No wonder your daughter has such a fat ass!" Cheryl was heard shouting. "She takes after **you**!"

"Can I stand over here?" Cyril moaned as he made his way to the others. He was also wearing a tuxedo. "I really don't want people to know I'm with her."

"Oh my God! Is that you Chase Chasterson?" Cheryl was laughing. "I thought you were ugly in high school but you got even uglier! Ug-leeeee! I'm glad you're one of the few guys I didn't have sex with!"

"Can't say I blame you," Lana remarked.

"Actually it does make sense that Cheryl knows all these people," Archer said. "Remember? She's a Tunt?"

"And her family would know all these upper crust people," Cyril realized.

"I don't care Chase! And FYI…" Cheryl went on. "I know all about that money your grandfather embezzled from my grandfather! The only reason he didn't shoot him or report him to the cops was that he still needed someone to bring him quality opium!"

"Yeah they know **her** all right," Lana groaned. "Still think it was a good idea to bring **her** and not Ray and the others?"

"Well now obviously," Mallory grumbled. "At the very least the gay cyborg hillbilly would have been a conversation starter…"

"Oh my God!" Cheryl was laughing as she walked over wearing a red evening gown. "This is fun! I really hate all these people!"

"And I'm sure the feeling is mutual," Archer quipped.

"Cheryl you're being a little extra…Oh what's the word?" Cyril remarked. "Horrible."

"It's being in the same room with all these rich snobs who all so jealous of my family," Cheryl told him. "Some of these people's families have been fighting with the Tunts for generations!"

"Really?" Archer asked.

"Ugh! You have no idea how long a grudge these people can carry," Cheryl groaned. " _ **Your** great grandfather drove **my** great grandfather to suicide after he stole all his money! **Your** grandfather cheated **my** grandfather out of his fortune and ran off with **my grandmother**! And then dumped her in a whorehouse and ran off with another whore! **Your** **ancestors** owned **my ancestors** and we want our back pay_! Blah! Blah! Blah!"

"To be fair even I can kind of see the point of that last one," Mallory admitted.

"And that's **her** saying that," Archer pointed out.

"These people have been bitching and complaining about my family for all my life," Cheryl grumbled. "It's no wonder I'm tense! That and the gummy bears I had for dinner were actual real gummy bears and not drugged up ones."

"That would explain some of your behavior tonight," Lana realized. "Not all of it. Just some of it."

"That's one of the reasons I took a job as a secretary in the first place!" Cheryl pouted. "You guys may be a bunch of assholes but these people are like assholes in quadruple triplicate! I mean can you imagine spending all my time around these people who **constantly remind** you of every _little thing_ your family has done over the centuries?"

Cheryl then glared at someone across the room. "Like it's **my freaking fault** your bat of a grandmother had a skank of a maid my great uncle got pregnant and used her to help steal part of your family fortune _Mellissa!_ That's no reason to be a bitch to me in high school you skanky little tramp!"

"And you know what else?" Cheryl continued her rant. "I'm glad you stole my boyfriend! Because he was lousy in bed! And he had a small penis! I mean look at Cyril right here! He's got a dick that can literally hit a home run to my g-spot every time! So suck on that bitch!"

"Really starting to question some of my life choices," Cyril groaned.

"You should question your **whole life** period," Archer quipped. "You know? As in…?"

"Cyril should probably kill himself in an extremely violent fashion," Cheryl added. "Yeah I saw where you were going with that."

"Why don't you four idiots go find **my husband?"** Mallory gritted her teeth. "How long does it take to hunt down an appetizer?"

"Aren't we supposed to guard the statue?" Lana asked sarcastically.

"You'll be guarding the **unemployment line** if you screw this up Missy!" Mallory barked. "Besides only you, me and Sterling have hidden weapons."

"How come I didn't get a gun?" Cyril asked.

"Because I didn't want to turn this into a bloodbath," Mallory glared at him.

"Why not?" Cheryl asked. "That would be fun!"

"And see all the heads of your enemies explode with the impact of bullets fired by Cyril when he panics," Archer said to Cheryl. "Yeah I see where you were going with that."

"Just go!" Mallory hissed as she heard her phone ringing.

She took it out of her purse when her agents left and answered it. "Hello? Where the hell are you?" Mallory hissed into the phone. "You're supposed to be here by now!"

Somewhere in New York Traffic…

"I'm not really sure," Manfred the German assassin for hire spoke into his phone as he drove his van. "I think the directions you gave me were wrong."

"Manny! Slow down!" Uta, the slightly deranged and much younger German girlfriend of the assassin spoke up from the back. "You don't want to give the baby a concussion!"

"Uta! It is impossible to give a concussion to a **stuffed doll!"** Manfred snapped. He spoke into the phone. "Seriously I think we are on the wrong side of town."

"Oh for Christ's sake…" Mallory groaned. "Where are you?"

"I don't know," Manfred looked as he drove. "Whole neighborhood looks like it was abandoned by the crack dealers for a nicer flophouse."

"I knew this was a mistake to hire **you** again!" Mallory groaned. "How hard is it to fake a terrorist attack?"

"How hard is it to use Map Quest to print out directions to the party?" Manfred snapped.

"I knew this was a mistake to hire you after you botched the job the last time!" Mallory snarled into the phone.

"Oh don't give me that!" Manfred snapped. "It is not my fault that _your boyfriend_ the head of the KGB hired me to kill Utne before you hired me!"

"How did you know about **that?** " Mallory gasped.

"Jakov was a lot of things, but subtle…No, not one of them," Manfred told her.

"No, he was not," Mallory admitted with a sigh.

"Besides **you** are one to talk!" Manfred snapped. "I know you were planning on having your agents shoot us with **real bullets**! That better not happen **this time!** You did tell your agents about the plan and they are using blanks ya?"

"Mostly," Mallory said.

"Oh Gott in Himmel you bitch!" Manfred shouted. "You did not tell them did you?"

"Look these idiots have the acting skills of a defendant at Nuremburg!" Mallory barked. "Nobody is going to believe this wasn't a set up if I told them!"

"Oh ya likely story!" Manfred snapped. "If you think we are going to get blown up because you are too cheap…."

"Never mind!" Mallory hissed into the phone. "Forget it! You're **fired!** " She hung up. "Typical!"

Back in the van…

"Typical!" Manfred snapped. "Ugh. Change of plans Uta. We go now to Ruby Woo's. We just got fired."

"I told you it was a mistake to let that **witch** hire us again!" Uta told her lover. "She wouldn't even pay us for the last job!"

"Well we did sort of triple cross her," Manfred reminded his younger girlfriend. "Besides we got well paid from that idiot Jackov. But that cash cow got turned into charred hamburger."

"I really want a hamburger," Uta sighed as she petted a doll in a car seat in the back. "But I'm afraid the additives will harm the baby when I feed him."

"I am really starting to question some of my life choices…" Manfred groaned.

Just then something huge fell out of the sky and crashed a few feet before the van. Fortunately Manfred was able to swerve out of the way.

"AAAAAHHH!" Uta yelled. "Manny! What happened?"

"Gott in Himmel! We nearly got **crushed**!" Manfred gasped. "I've heard of buildings falling to pieces in this city but still…"

"I told you this city is a bad place to raise a child!" Uta yelled.

"Ugh…" Manfred groaned.

Meanwhile at the top of one of the buildings…

"Oops," Ray winced as he looked downward. There were the feet of a broken statue with a rope around them nearby. "Really thought that rope would hold better…"

"Well that's one down," Pam laughed as she looked from the roof.

"That's **not** what I'm worried about!" Ray snapped at Pam.

"Don't worry," Pam waved. "You only nearly crushed that van."

"Yeah what are the odds a van would go down this street just as you pushed that gargoyle off?" Krieger admitted.

"I didn't push it off! It broke and **fell off**!" Ray barked.

"Relax Ray," Krieger went to another gargoyle statue on the roof. "This is the last one."

"What happened to the **second one**?" Ray did a double take. "I only turned my back on you two for a few minutes."

"Don't worry about it," Pam and Krieger said at the same time.

"Why do I have the feeling I should?" Ray frowned.

Back at the party…

"Because whenever you say I shouldn't worry about something it feels like that's the time I **should** be worrying about something," Lana told Mallory.

They were standing around the statue again eating appetizers off of a few trays held between them. And Ron was with them holding a tray of his own. "That's not the worst instinct in the world honey," Ron said as he ate an appetizer.

"Lana it will be _fine,"_ Mallory said. "In fact this party might go even smoother now that I think about it."

"What did you do?" Lana folded her arms.

"Nothing! God why do you keep asking me that?" Mallory snapped.

"Because she knows you," Ron remarked between bites.

"Oh shut up and keep eating your stupid hot dogs," Mallory glared at him. "And why did you all bring all those trays over here anyway?"

"Because we had to literally knock down the stupid waiters and literally rip them out of the hands of some of these rich assholes to get them," Cheryl said as she ate some tiny spring rolls.

"You mean figuratively," Mallory said.

"No, literally…" Lana sighed. "I think you knocked out that one guy's tooth Cheryl."

"It's fine! It was Clive Clementsleeve! And he like had at least five of them replaced in high school!" Cheryl rolled her eyes. "One more won't make a difference! He's used to it by now!"

"Really?" Mallory sighed.

"He's like Brett but with teeth instead of bullets," Cheryl waved.

"Please tell me that you had nothing to do with the other teeth he lost," Mallory groaned.

"I would but that would be a lie," Cheryl snickered. "These spring rolls are tasty!"

"And I'm guessing you also had something to do with that woman drenched in punch over there," Mallory sighed. "The one giving us the evil eye?"

"That was Lana!" Archer snorted.

"You shoved me into that woman!" Lana barked.

"I was getting the mini hot dogs," Archer said. "Which are really good by the way."

"Well so much for making new contacts," Mallory groaned. "It doesn't matter. Only a few more hours until midnight and then…"

"And then you can get these… **agents** of yours out of here!" An older man with a German accent and a thick head of silver hair limped over to them with a cane.

"Hans! How lovely to see you!" Mallory twittered.

"Oh _Hans_ …." Ron mocked.

Mallory glared at her husband before turning her attention to her client. "Yes as I promised you everything is going smoothly."

"Tell that to one of my guests who has to make an emergency trip to the dentist," Hans gave her a look.

"Well these things happen," Mallory waved. "The important thing is that the statue is perfectly safe in the hands of my best agents."

"These are your **best agents?"** Hans was incredulous. _"Seriously?"_

"Actually I'm just an administrative assistant," Cheryl corrected.

"I'm actually the agency's comptroller," Cyril admitted. "Only a part time agent."

"And I'm the husband," Ron said.

"Then I'm truly sorry," Hans apologized to Ron. "Seriously. I've known Mallory for a long time and I'm **very sorry**."

"Burn…" Cheryl snickered as Mallory gave her a glare that would wither a normal person.

"But as for the rest of you…" Hans sighed. "Mallory did or did I **not** state how **important** this was? And you bring along an insane heiress playing secretary, an _accountant_ and…Well this beautiful woman here is a welcome breath of fresh air…"

"Oh well thank you," Lana smiled.

"Oh please!" Archer rolled his eyes as he grabbed a cocktail from a passing waiter and downed it.

"Seriously Mallory this does not…What is that word? Oh right," Hans remembered. "Reassure me!"

SMASH!

"ESPECIALLY WITH **THIS ONE** SMASHING GLASS ALL OVER MY FOYER!" Hans pointed to Archer who threw his empty drink. "What? Were you raised in a barn?"

"No, by my mother," Archer pointed.

"Pam was raised in a barn," Cheryl said cheerfully.

"Quiet! The adults are talking!" Mallory warned Cheryl.

"I knew I should have paid for better security," Hans groaned.

"And I knew I shouldn't have come to a party where one of my wife's exes was hosting," Ron groaned.

"For the last time Hans and I were never together!" Mallory bristled.

"Not for her lack of trying," Hans said. "Besides she was never exactly my type anyway."

"What exactly do you mean by **that?** " Mallory barked.

"No offense Mallory but as my dear departed father told me," Hans said. "There are two types of women in the world. One you can introduce to your family and one you **can't.** And let's face it, you're in the **latter** category."

"And what does **that mean**?" Mallory shouted.

"What? Was that not the right English translation?" Hans blinked. "Hang on…I know there's another word for this…"

"He's calling you a whore," Cheryl said cheerfully to Mallory. "A big one!"

"Ya, that's the word," Hans nodded. He looked at Ron. "No offense."

"Oh none taken!" Ron said sarcastically. "It's like **everyone** in the world **knew** this but **me!** "

"Yeah pretty much," Cheryl told him.

"Really starting to question some of my life choices here," Ron grumbled.

"How dare you insult me you persnickety Prussian!" Mallory shouted. "After everything I've done for you!"

"Don't flatter yourself!" Hans snapped. "You were helping yourself and you know it!"

"You think I **wanted** to sleep with some of those Nazi nitwits before I bashed their brains in?" Mallory snapped.

"I think you're a sex addict. That's what I think," Hans grumbled.

"Told you that was a thing Lana!" Cyril said.

"No, it's **not!** " Lana glared at him. "You're just a cheating asshole who can't keep it in his pants."

"Oh **I'm** the cheating asshole?" Cyril snapped back. He pointed at Archer. "What about **him?** He's cheated on you **dozens** of more times than I ever did! And yet you still stole his sperm!"

"I need this sale to go through just as much as you do!" Hans barked as he focused on Mallory. "My fortunes have also taken a downward turn and the money from the sale of this statue will reverse our slide into destitution! So if you screw this up like you screwed up Dusseldorf…"

"That was not my fault!" Mallory barked.

"It so **was** your fault!" Hans barked back.

"Your grandfather losing his bank was so not my fault Tiffany Amber Weinstiengold!" Cheryl yelled out to someone glaring at her. "I certainly didn't tell him to bet it during a rigged poker game!"

"Where were you when the mission was going down?" Hans snapped at Mallory. "Because I know where you **weren't!"**

"Where are those Orange-Tini drinks?" Archer looked around. "Those were really good."

"That is not the point!" Lana went at Cyril.

"Yeah I think it kind of is," Cyril replied.

"I'm not the one who shot your cousin!" Mallory seethed.

"He wouldn't have been captured and shot if you had been at your post!" Hans snapped. "Instead of some jerk's bedpost!"

"You bed hopping slut!" A woman yelled from the room.

"Keep it up Tiffany!" Cheryl shouted. "I'll shove you into the punch too!"

"I'd love to **punch** you!" Tiffany was heard yelling.

"Bring it bitch!" Cheryl shouted back.

"Why did you steal Archer's sperm I'd like to know that?" Cyril shouted. "You still have a thing for him don't you?"

"That's changing the subject!" Lana protested.

"Ron have you seen the Orange-Tini drink guy?" Archer asked.

"No, and we're running out of appetizers," Ron finished off his tray. He casually dropped it to the floor.

"My cousin would still be alive today if you hadn't run out to sleep with that pilot!" Hans snapped.

"It was an assassination and it took longer than I planned!" Mallory snapped.

"Why was he _that good_ in bed?" Hans quipped.

"Actually yes but that's not the point," Mallory said.

"My point is that you cheated on me!" Lana barked. "And humiliated me!"

"Honestly you should be used to that by now," Cheryl turned to Lana.

"Shut up!" Lana barked.

"Yeah shut up Cheryl!" Tiffany was heard.

Cheryl whirled around. "MAKE ME!"

"I'm not the idiot who yelled to the entire German Army, 'Hey I've got a bomb! Where do you want me to blow it up'?" Mallory snapped.

"Where the hell is that drink guy?" Archer looked around.

"Maybe he's getting refills?" Ron suggested.

"Archer humiliated you and cheated on you at least twenty dozen more times than I ever did!" Cyril snapped. "Why does he get a pass and I **don't?** "

"How long does it take to get refills?" Archer asked.

"I never said I gave him a pass," Lana protested.

"You had his child! That sounds like a pass to me!" Cyril shouted.

"It's not my fault your stupid brother made a pass at me Tiffany!" Cheryl shouted.

"AT HIS WEDDING?" Tiffany yelled.

"Again! Not my fault!" Mallory snapped at Hans.

"Yes! It was!" Hans shouted.

"Why? Because I'm not as **handsome** as Archer is?" Cyril mocked.

"Well…" Lana winced.

"What? Oh you superficial…" Cyril seethed.

"BITCH!" Cheryl called out. "You heard me Tiffany! You're a bitch! And so is your bitch of a mother! And your brother's bitch of an ex-wife!"

"Come over here and say that to my face!" Tiffany yelled.

"Well can the waiters with the drinks and appetizers come over here so I can fill my face?" Archer asked as he looked around.

"What are they hourly?" Ron looked around as well.

"I never liked you!" Mallory snapped at Hans.

"Didn't stop you from trying to seduce me if I recall," Hans replied. "Seriously Mallory I think you have some kind of sex addiction problem."

"Seriously Tiffany! What's stopping you from coming over here?" Cheryl taunted.

"And the only reason you hate me is because I was one of the few straight men smart enough to see you for what you really were and not fall into the death trap that is your vagina!" Hans snapped.

"Sometimes I wonder if I ever really meant anything to you!" Cyril snapped at Lana. "That I was just someone for you to use to get back at Archer!"

"Yes Cyril! God! About time you figured **that out!"** Archer groaned. "Now can you help me figure out where all the damn waiters went?"

"Archer shut up!" Lana barked.

"Make me!" Archer shouted back.

"Come over here and make me Tiffany!" Cheryl shouted.

"The only reason I agreed to this little venture was…" Mallory began.

"Because you saw dollar signs like the prostitute you are!" Hans barked.

"How **dare** you call me a prostitute?" Mallory seethed.

"You're right. That was wrong of me. Prostitutes are more **generous** and **less greedy** than **you** are!" Hans snapped.

"HEY SHUT UP!" Archer shouted as he pulled out his gun. "I WANT TO KNOW WHERE THOSE ORANGE DRINKS ARE! AND IF I DON'T GET ANY THERE'S GOING TO BE TROUBLE!"

"NO! NO! NO! NO!" Lana protested. "ARCHER!"

It was too late. Archer fired his gun into the air a few times. "What?" He asked.

The party guests panicked as the bullets ricocheted off the walls. And two hit the chandelier right above where they were standing.

"Okay one of two things are going to happen…" Archer looked upwards.

And one of two things did.

"Oh shh…." Archer didn't even have enough time to swear as he grabbed Lana and pushed her out of the way. The others barely managed to get out of the way as…

SMASH! SHATTER! CRASH!

The chandelier crashed down on top of the statue and both shattered into millions of pieces.

Mallory lay on the floor for a second as her plans literally and figuratively smashed into millions of pieces before her. "STERLING MALLORY ARCHER!" She screamed.

"What? Oh…" Archer looked at the rubble. "Oh. I guess that statue really was made out of clay."

"Oh my heart…" Ron moaned.

"Oh I don't think the insurance will pay for that," Cyril winced as he got up with everyone else.

"YOU THINK?" Hans shouted. "YOU MORON! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? SHOOTING UP MY HOUSE LIKE SOME DERANGED COWBOY?"

"Well I was trying to shut you up to get the waiters…" Archer began.

"BY SHOOTING OFF YOUR GUN LIKE IT WAS THE O-KAY FREAKING CORRAL?" Lana shouted. "REALLY? DID YOU REALLY THINK THAT WOULD GET A WAITER'S ATTENTION? REALLY?"

"I think all the waiters just ran away," Cheryl looked around. "Along with all the party guests. YEAH! RUN OFF TIFANNY! HA!"

"Oh God!" Ron moaned. "This is the second time you people nearly killed me in a shootout!"

"Okay technically Ron, what happened wasn't a **shootout,** " Archer corrected. "For a shootout to occur, there has to be two or more people firing weapons. A **shoot up** yes. But not a shootout."

"REALLY?" Hans snapped. " **That's** what you find wrong with this entire situation? Not the fact that you ruined my party and terrified my guests. Not the fact that you fired a gun for **no reason** and put bullets in the walls of my home! Not the fact that you literally destroyed both a priceless statue and a priceless antique chandelier in one fell swoop! Not even the fact that you completely wrecked my retirement plan that your mother and I spent **over fifty years** working on! But he mispronounced **a word**? THAT'S WHAT YOU TAKE UMBRIDGE AT?"

"Well the English language is a tricky bitch," Archer shrugged. "I mean you of all people should know that."

"And I'm the one they don't trust with a gun," Cyril grumbled.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you!" Hans shouted. "This is Dusseldorf all over again!"

"Well you get what you pay for," Cheryl said casually. "It's not our fault you were too cheap to hire real security."

"Mark my words, I will not make **that** mistake again!" Hans snapped.

"Calm down Hans," Mallory barked. "I lost money on this fiasco too!"

"And you are going to lose more!" Hans snapped. "You are not only going to be held responsible for the damages to my home, but you are going to reimburse me for the money I would have gotten from the sale of the statue!"

"I don't have sixty three million dollars!" Mallory snapped.

"I know. So I'm only going to charge you six million dollars!" Hans snapped. "It was not exactly what I was hoping for but it is enough to get me back on my feet."

"WHAT?" Mallory shouted. "I'm not going to pay you one thin dime you horrible Hun!"

"You **will** pay me Mallory," Hans said in a menacing tone. "Or else not only will I inform your _friends_ at the CIA about this, I will tell them a few **other things** you've done in your past! Like that little incident with you and a certain future KGB head in Miami?"

"You **know** about **Miami**?" Mallory gulped. "How?"

"Remember Anastasia?" Hans asked.

"The crazy bitch Len Trexler ran around with before she killed herself?" Mallory snapped. "How does she…? Oh wait…"

"Ya, you told Trexler. He told Anastasia. She told **me** ," Hans folded his arms.

"How do you know Anastasia?" Archer asked.

"We went to a lot of the same parties back in the old days," Hans waved.

"Really should know better than to drink Absinthe on dates," Mallory groaned. "All right! All right! I'll pay you! Ron…"

"Noooooooooooppe," Ron said. "You're on your own with **this one** babe!"

"Besides I think she already makes you pay plenty doesn't she?" Hans snorted.

"You have no idea," Ron groaned.

"Don't worry. I won't take money from you," Hans said. "Just her."

"Then I feel much better," Ron smirked. "Hey Hans you wanna get a beer?"

"Yah sounds good," Hans nodded.

"Hans! Where am I supposed to get six million dollars?" Mallory snapped.

"Well for starters I know about that painting you have in your apartment," Hans said. "That's worth a couple million there."

"You expect me to give up my George Coe original?" Mallory gasped.

"And I **know** you've got some bonds that only just recently became available to cash in," Ron added. "Which are at least worth a million. Not to mention some of those furs of yours…"

"MY FURS?" Mallory barked. "YOU EXPECT ME TO GIVE UP MY FURS?"

"Not all of them," Ron shrugged. "I know if you hand over at least two or three of 'em that's an easy mil right there!"

"I always did like that white ermine," Hans smirked.

"No! Not my white ermine!" Mallory protested.

"Ron what is the number for the CIA again?" Hans asked.

Mallory deflated. "You win. I'll send them over within a week."

"No, you are going to hand them over **tonight!** " Hans barked. "We're going to your apartment right now! Then Ron and I will go get a beer? Ya?"

"Hans I think this will be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Ron smirked.

"How can you be so casual about all this?" Mallory shouted.

"Because maybe this will teach you to drag me into the middle of your cockamamie schemes?" Ron snapped. "I doubt it but maybe it will make you think for a moment. And second…I never really liked that painting anyway. So…Come on gang. Let's go!"

"First I want to know the recipe for the orange cocktail drink," Archer spoke up. "So is there a bartender who makes them or a…?"

"Sterling Mallory Archer…" Mallory hissed. "Shut up! Just for that you can **walk home**!"

"I drove my own car," Archer rolled his eyes.

"Oh right," Mallory groaned. "Once again you have **ruined everything**!"

"And you're actually **surprised** by this?" Cheryl snickered.

"I know," Mallory said. "He and the rest of you idiots keep surpassing yourselves in stupidity! Which makes me wonder how the **other idiots** are doing on **their mission** and how they're **screwing it up**!"

"Mother I'm pretty sure there's only a fifty percent chance those three are screwing up whatever you've got them doing," Archer scoffed.

"Fifty?" Mallory glared at him.

"Well depending on how drunk they are," Archer shrugged.

"Well they'd better not screw their mission up!" Mallory barked. "I'm already out of millions of dollars! And they'd better not do anything to draw attention to themselves! Especially the police!"

Meanwhile…Just across town…

"What the hell happened here?" An African American cop in his thirties looked at the rubble in the street as he and his partner got out of their police car and saw the wreckage.

"Eh it's this stupid crap hole of a building," A white cop also in his thirties grumbled. "This is the same turd pile those hippie activists are trying to save! I knew this dump would fall down on its own. I told you so Carl!"

"I dunno, Lenny," Carl shrugged. "I always liked the gargoyle statues. Thought they lent an ambiance to the street."

"Eh we'd better report this before something else…" Lenny began.

SMASH!

"Happens?" Lenny blinked as a large gargoyle statue smashed their police car.

"Well you just know the insurance isn't going to cover **that**!" Carl groaned.

Meanwhile back on the roof…

"Damn it Krieger!" Pam shouted. "How drunk are you?"

"Oops," Krieger gulped as he looked down from the roof. "That rope did not hold as well as I thought it would."

"HEY! YOU UP THERE!" Carl was heard shouting. "STOP AND STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"

"Mission's over!" Ray said nervously. "Run!"

"Feet don't fail me now!" Pam agreed as the three ran off.

"I am so questioning some of my life choices right now!" Ray groaned as they took off.

The following morning in Mallory's office…

"Well at least you didn't get **caught** …" Mallory grumbled as she took a drink. "Which is more than I can say for the rest of the Idiot Squad here!"

She glared at all her employees. "What?" Archer asked. "Are you still mad about last night?"

"What do you **think?** " Mallory glared at her son. "That statue survived bombings, two world wars, Nazis, a rough sea crossing, a brief ownership by some mobsters and years of hiding from the authorities in a rat infested wine cellar. But it couldn't survive **one night** with you idiots!"

"You mean one night with **Archer!** " Cyril pointed out. "We're not the ones who shot off a gun for no reason!"

"No! You're the idiots who fought among yourselves…" Mallory then glared at Cheryl. "Or in Cheryl's case, fought with **half the guests** ruining our chances of getting into their good graces!"

 _"Half_? You **wish**!" Cheryl laughed. "Everyone in that room hates the Tunts with a deep seated passion! And the fact they know you were with me only sweetens the deal!"

"You realize because of **you four** ," Mallory glared at them. "With the exception of these three slightly less idiotic idiots' payment, I have to use all that money I gained from **that mission** to pay Hans off for the debacle of _your mission_!"

"Wait, **they** get paid and **we don't**?" Archer asked as he pointed at Ray and the others.

"Yes, Sterling!" Mallory growled. "It's called payment for work! **They** did their jobs! You **didn't**!"

"HA!" Pam scoffed. "So suck on that dicknuts!"

"Yes, Pam…Ha indeed," Mallory grumbled. "You're supposed to be my best agent Sterling!"

"Wow this agency has so gone downhill…" Cheryl snickered.

"And I am getting sick and tired of covering up for your constant screw ups and **failures!"** Mallory went on. "So maybe…Just maybe…By not rewarding you for your failure by giving you any money and giving these three money might force you and the rest of you screw ups to **shape up!"**

Lana folded her arms in disgust. "So basically you're rewarding those three for helping destroy an old building that should probably be preserved, instead of being torn down for some high rise?"

"Oh God Lana give it a rest!" Pam groaned. "That building was one rat hole to Hell if there ever was one!"

"The main reason we didn't get caught was those cops broke the stairs in the building when they ran in to catch us," Ray explained. "Good thing we used the fire escape. I mean one of them broke his leg."

"Yes and they're suing the owner of the building for damages," Mallory sighed. "Fortunately for you idiots the owner wasn't the man who hired us. He wanted to buy the building so he could tear it down. Actually with the owner having to pay some extra costs he might get that building cheaper than he thought."

Mallory glared at them. "So while **they** actually _completed_ their mission, you idiots **failed** miserably!"

"One out of two isn't bad," Pam agreed. Mallory glared at her. "What? We had the successful mission and smashed those statues into rubble!"

"Mostly," Krieger shrugged.

 _"Mostly?"_ Lana did a double take. "What do you mean by **mostly?** "

A few minutes later in Krieger's lab…

"I don't know why I'm **shocked,** " Mallory said in a deadpan voice. "I shouldn't be shocked. I should know better by now. But I'm still shocked. I'm actually **shocked,** that I'm in **shock**."

In Krieger's lab was the gargoyle statue. "Krieger how…?" Lana was stunned.

"I have no idea **how** he did it," Ray groaned. "I didn't even know he did it until I got in the van."

"How the hell does Krieger do anything he does?" Cyril blinked.

"I'm shocked and surprised that after all this time with Krieger, I **still** can be shocked and surprised by all the things he does," Mallory went on. "I've known Krieger a **long time**. And every time I think he can't do something that would shock and surprise me…He does!"

"I dunno," Pam said. "I'm starting to get used to it."

"There's **another shock** ," Mallory said sarcastically.

"It is kind of a cool statue," Archer admitted. "Kind of lends an ambiance to the place."

"What? Creepy and weird?" Cheryl asked. "Oh. That does fit Krieger perfectly. Yeah I see what you mean now."

"I'm thinking of calling him Gene," Krieger smiled.

"So let me see if I get this straight," Cyril groaned. "The statue we wanted to protect got destroyed and the statue you wanted destroyed got **saved**?"

"I should have switched jobs with you idiots," Mallory groaned.


End file.
